


Sober Heart

by Everyday_Im_Preaching



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alpha!McGee, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, M/M, omega!Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 11:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18249329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyday_Im_Preaching/pseuds/Everyday_Im_Preaching
Summary: Is it true that a drunk mind speaks a sober heart?McGee finds himself at the crux of this question when Dinozzo shows up on his doorstep, drunker than hell with something potentially life-changing on his mind.





	Sober Heart

**Author's Note:**

> New fandom, who dis?
> 
> If you enjoy this fic, please leave a comment below! I'm thinking of second chaptering it, but I'm not sure as of right now because the end feels right to me.

 

“Tim, open the goddamn door.” 

McGee jumped; Tony’s voice had an unfamiliar urgency to it that was, at the very least,  _ concerning.  _ He yanked his headphones off and tossed them onto his keyboard, stumbling over his own feet to reach the door. He yanked it open and was promptly met by Tony, shoving his way into his apartment and tipping over into his arms.

“There’s McHandsome,” Tony teased; his voice was slightly slurred and he smelled like cheap beer. McGee pulled a face and kicked the door shut behind him. He let out an uncomfortable grunt as Tony wrapped his arms around his neck, sagging further into him. “Good evening, sir, am I interrupting your video game?” 

“What are you doing?” McGee asked, walking backward, leading Tony further into his apartment. Tony typically wasn’t clingy when he was drunk, and definitely not towards him—but he’d stopped relying on preconceptions about his team a long time ago. “Could you get off of me? You’re heavy. And drunk.” 

“You’re right about one of those things,” Tony replied. “I am very,  _ very  _ drunk. Though I assure you, I am perfectly in shape for a man my age. You think that you’d like an omega hanging all over you. Most alphas do.” 

McGee gritted his teeth. “Well, most alphas aren’t your co-worker. Come on, off.” He grabbed at Tony’s arms and tugged, pulling them free with relative ease. “Jesus Christ, you smell like a brewery. Thank God it’s the weekend, or you’d be in trouble with Gibbs.”

“What Gibbs doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Tony replied as he was led to the couch. “I’m allowed to drink as much as I want when I’m not at work.” He grunted as he was gingerly put down. “You’re awful careful with me now that you know I’m an omega, huh?”

“Tony, stop,” McGee told him. “I’m not going to toss a drunk guy onto my couch. The last thing I need to do is shake up your stomach.” He knew that Tony had a point, though. Ever since he’d found the suppressants in Tony’s desk, ever since he’d went  _ off  _ them, he’d felt the need to be…  _ gentler  _ with him. Even if he was an absolute shit most of the time.

“Speaking of omegas, why don’t you have one, McRough and tumble?” He was looking anywhere but at McGee. “Waiting for something? I mean, sure, alphas can be fertile for longer than omegas, but you really don’t want to waste time, do you?”

McGee furrowed his brow. “I’m going to get you a cup of coffee, sober you up.” He resisted the urge to brush some of Tony’s hair from his face. He was a  _ mess. _

“Answer the question, Tim.”

McGee shook his head. “Of all the things to be interested in while drunk, you want to know about why I don’t have an omega?” he asked, opening up the lid of his coffee maker. He tossed the old filter, trying to find a good answer to Tony’s question. He found himself coming up surprisingly empty. “I guess I haven’t met the right one yet. Maybe I never will.”

He peeked through the shelving unit to look at Tony, only to find him looking back at him. “You know my track record with omegas.” 

“Absolute shit?” Tony replied. “Yeah. You know, I think you’re looking too hard. Alpha like you could find a good omega easy.” He leaned his head back, letting it rest against the back of the couch. McGee shook his head and returned to the task at hand. Tony was  _ really  _ drunk. “Not like me.” 

McGee froze, hearing Tony’s voice thicken at the admission. “Tony? Are you alright?”

“Hell, Tim, what kind of question is that?” Tony asked in return, voice almost acidic in nature. “An alpha working a government job, serving his country, that’s not a big deal—you’ve got a good job, very attractive to omegas and betas alike, you’re…” His voice cracked and then trailed off. “...You’re a good alpha. Could be a good alpha, if you wanted to be. Me, I…”

McGee abandoned the coffee machine and came around the shelving unit to find Tony with his face in his hands, shoulders rucked up around his ears. McGee wasn’t sure what to do, so he remained where he was, simply watching Tony begin to break down in front of him. 

“...I’m no good. No good as a mate to anyone.” He ran his hands through his hair, not daring to look up at McGee. “I love my job, don’t get me wrong. But no alpha or beta wants their baby making factory running around in the line of duty. And I’m almost too old for that.” 

“Oh, woah, wait a second, Tony.” McGee finally managed to kickstart his brain. “Tony, you are more than that. You’re more than an omega. I mean, there are plenty of omegas that work for NCIS, especially mated ones.” 

“So it’s just me, then, not the job that throws them off?” Tony asked, peering through his fingers. 

McGee stared at him. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well what the hell did you mean, Tim?”

McGee sighed and rounded his coffee table to take a seat next to Tony. “Look, you’re going to make a wonderful mate for someone someday. But it’s not something you can rush.” He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with  _ Tony.  _ Sure, Tony was drunk, but he was still Tony. 

“I’m not getting any younger,” Tony grumbled. “Another ten years and then nobody will want me at all. You know how alphas get once an omega can’t have babies anymore.” He groaned and buried his face back into his hands. “God, I can’t… fuck.” His hand migrated to his hair, running through it and tugging. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore Tim. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore and I’m scared that I’m going to die alone, without a mate, and without a life—I’m going to be the omega version of Gibbs, except from forty up it’ll be a long-ass dry spell.”

McGee hesitated for a moment before putting a hand on Tony’s back and rubbing at it gently. “It’s… it’s going to be okay.” He could feel Tony lean into his touch. His instincts screamed  _ protect  _ and he swallowed them down. “You’re a great omega, you just haven’t found the right alpha yet.” 

It was like a game of tug of war, except Tony wasn’t trying—as soon as McGee let him lean further in, he was collapsing, sticking his head under his chin and jabbing his limbs uncomfortably into his torso. McGee winced. 

“Tony?” McGee questioned carefully, hand stilling on his back. Tony didn’t move, breath hot against the hollow of his throat. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to push Tony away—he was obviously distraught. But he was also so  _ close.  _ And just… he was Tony. 

“Don’t stop,” Tony muttered. He shifted his shoulders and nuzzled closer. 

“Don’t stop what?” 

“Don’t stop comforting me. I like it.” He felt Tony’s nose brush his scent gland and his own body buzzed in arousal. He shook it off, reminding himself that Tony was drunk, emotional, and wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t. McGee cleared his throat and rubbed his thumb along Tony’s spine, feeling his tension melt away. “That’s the stuff. Haven’t had an alpha comfort me since god knows when. When’s the last time you held an omega, Tim?”

McGee rolled his eyes and unconsciously adjusted himself so that Tony sat better on his lap, now fully leaning into him. McGee was surprised that he felt so  _ light.  _ “Why does it matter? It’s going to be weird enough having to explain why we smell like each other at work.”

“Doesn’t have to be weird,” Tony murmured, mouth hovering closer to McGee’s skin. McGee jerked back as his lips touched his scent gland. “Want you to be my alpha.” It was whispered under his breath. McGee, without thinking, brought up his hand and gripped the back of Tony’s neck, pinning him in place. Tony let out a moan that McGee never thought he’d hear in real life—it was more pornographic than realistic. 

“Tony,” McGee rumbled out. “You’re drunk.” 

“Had to get drunk to ask,” Tony whined in his ear. It was unfair, everything about the noises he was making was unfair. “McGee, please,  _ please.  _ Fuck, I want an alpha. I want you as an alpha. Don’t make fucking beg, this is already embarrassing.” 

He was pressing his face tightly against the side of his neck. 

“You don’t want me as an alpha, you’re drunk,” McGee squeaked. “And we’d have to put off for bonding leave. You know that. Fuck, Tony,  _ stop. _ ” He squeezed Tony’s neck and felt him go limp in his grip. “I can’t do anything to you when you’re drunk. You have to be sober. Besides, it’s pretty fucking sneaky to come in here and ask like this. You don’t even know if I want you as an omega.”

Tony tensed under McGee’s grip. 

“Don’t you?” he asked. His voice cracked, caught on the words that bubbled up in his throat, full of tears. McGee cursed, pulling him in tighter. He was rubbing at Tony’s back again, feeling his nightshirt become wet with tears as Tony curled up against him. “Don’t you?” he asked again, this time with a whimper. 

McGee didn’t know what to say. What could he say? His hand fell from Tony’s neck and wrapped around his back. “Of… of course I do, but you have to ask me when you’re sober, when we have time to ask for leave, okay?” Tony seemed to quiet at this. 

He tilted his head up and pressed a kiss to the bottom of McGee’s jaw. And then he kissed up, getting McGee to shudder as a wet mouth—a wet face, really, travelled up to nestle under his ear. 

“I could be a really good omega,” Tony murmured. 

“You are a really good omega already, Tony,” McGee replied, wondering if he had fallen asleep at his computer, and this was just a really weird dream. “A great omega, I promise.” He felt awkward, talking to a friend like this. And someone he had to work with at that. 

Tony let out a soft, content sigh and then snuggled back up against McGee, closing his eyes. It wasn’t long before his breath was coming slowly and evenly. McGee carefully got to his feet, lifting Tony with him—he was going to take him to the bedroom and tuck him in, so he could sleep this off. Hopefully he’d forget all of this when he woke up. Or at least pretend it never happened. McGee didn’t plan on using it as blackmail, at least.

McGee took the couch and a spare blanket from the linen closet. No way was he going to get in bed with Tony, not after his little show on the couch. He was way too grabby for that, and if he woke up in the middle of the night drunk, McGee didn’t want to have to fight him off. 

He woke up to the sound of someone in his kitchen the next morning; McGee reached for his gun without thinking—and then the smell of pancakes washed over him. He furrowed his brow, immediately confused. And then he remembered that Tony had come into his apartment the night before, drunk. 

“Tony?” he called out, voice raspy. He blinked himself awake. This was crazy. Tony making him breakfast? With his luck, this was a dream and it was going to be Gibbs. He pressed a hand to his forehead. “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast?” Tony replied. He almost sounded glum. “Didn’t think you were going to get up and do it.” McGee heaved himself up off of the couch, and then almost sat back down when he noticed that Tony was in his boxers. He wondered where he had put his rumpled suit from the night before. 

McGee walked into the kitchen, keeping his eyes on Tony’s face. “Okay, so you’re making breakfast. Alright.” He looked at the frying pan. He swallowed, wondering if he should bring up the night before. “Do you… remember how you got here?”

Tony grabbed his spatula. “Thanks for letting me have the bed,” he replied, ignoring the question. “My back appreciates it. The least I can do is make you breakfast. And brew coffee—can’t say anything about your taste in coffee brands though.” He paused, tapping the spatula on the edge of the pan. “I remember how I got here. And why I came here.”

“Now what you want to do with that information—hopefully keep it to yourself—is up to you.”

“Were you serious?” McGee asked, before he could stop himself. Tony flipped the pancakes in the pan, not looking up from the task at hand. 

“As serious as a Dinozzo could be.” His response was deadpan, empty of any obvious emotion. “But, you can pretend otherwise.” He transferred the pancakes to a nearby plate. McGee wondered if this was all a show to prove that he  _ could  _ wake up and make breakfast for his alpha, if he wanted to. 

“It’s just… it’s a little hard to believe, considering how you’ve treated me,” McGee said. Tony winced at his words like they were an accusation.

He rolled his shoulders. “You know what they say. We don’t choose who we fall in love with and all that garbage. At least, that’s what Abby would say. Has said in the past. Not necessarily about us though.” 

McGee took a long look at Tony. Apparently it was too much for him to handle, because he whipped his head around to look at him. 

“Look, if you don’t feel the same, accept the breakfast, I’ll leave, and then we can pretend that none of this ever happened. Then back to work on Monday.” 

The tension between the two of them was thick—unbearably so. McGee wanted to find some way to break it, while also trying to make up his mind. It wasn’t an easy question. This wasn’t an easy situation. He tried not to notice the way that Tony’s body was shaking, the way that he was physically preparing himself for rejection—every bit of alpha in him was demanding he say that of  _ course  _ he wanted Tony. Of course he wanted an omega that was so readily offering himself up. 

McGee didn’t know if he could say no.

“Are you ready to be mated, Tony? I mean, to me? Are you ready for that?” He was searching Tony’s face, trying to find something that said  _ no,  _ of course not. But he couldn’t find it. 

“I think so,” Tony answered. “Why not? I’m not getting younger and neither are you. We’re both in the same career field, we work the same hours—” 

“ —but Gibbs doesn’t like it when co-workers date—”

“ —Gibbs can go knot himself.” 

McGee blinked stupidly at Tony.

“I can do what I want, and so can you. If you want to.” His hands had turned into fists at his sides. McGee rolled his lips between his teeth. He liked Tony. He could… he could see a future with Tony. 

Instead of saying something, he opened his arms. Tony stared at him. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, it’s a yes,” McGee confirmed.

“Goddamnit Tim, use your words. How many degrees do you have?” Tony huffed, turning back to his frying pan. His cheeks had flushed a dark red. “I, uh. Parked my car at the bar a block over.”

“I’m glad you didn’t drive over here drunk,” McGee told him, walking behind him and scenting the air around him, catching a mixture of espresso and peanut butter. Curious, McGee moved closer—Tony squeaked quietly as McGee pressed his nose against his neck.

“What the fuck, McGee?” He asked, voice slightly breathless. “Didn’t get a good enough smell last night?” 

McGee pulled away, slightly embarrassed. “Hey, you’re my omega now. Get used to it. Besides, I’m not the one that smells like peanut butter.” He purposefully shoved his nose against Tony’s neck to prove a point and listened to him let out a peal of laughter—McGee paused.  _ Laughter _ ? Was he tickling him?

“I do  _ not  _ smell like peanut butter,” Tony argued, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. McGee encircled his hips with his fingers, keeping him in place as he instinctively mouthed as Tony’s scent gland. Tony let out a shuddered breath, teeth clacking together at the touch. “Is that what we’re doing today?”

“Either you smell like peanut butter, or you’ve lathered up your entire body of peanut butter under your clothes.” McGee told him. “It’s one or the other.” 

Tony rolled his eyes and broke free of his hands. “Just because you’re my alpha, doesn’t mean you get to be McHandsy. The stove is still on. Go do… whatever nerd stuff that you do in the morning. Or have some coffee.” He went back to the frying pan that was now sizzling dangerously now that it was empty. 

“I like peanut butter.” 

“Go, Tim. Just  _ go.”  _

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! 
> 
> Song for this fic:  
> Sober Heart by Lucian(feat. Olivera)
> 
> Want to stay updated? Want to chat or shoot me a prompt? Have an idea that you'd like me to consider for this pairing? Feel free to click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to do all these things and more!


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